


we've got time (years and years darling)

by Littlethings987



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, carol makes me feel things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlethings987/pseuds/Littlethings987
Summary: "What are you getting from this?" She growls her voice low and angry. "Why are you even here?"You stare at her, thinking for a second. Not quite believing what you were going to say. But your answer came out before you could stop yourself. "I'm fucking here for you Carol."She frowned at you. "Bullshit.""Bull-true."__Or: where you go to prison to serve your time, but meet the hurricane that is Carol Denning instead.





	1. Chapter 1

You didn’t know what had made you do it. After all those years, something had just snapped. The pain and the memories had taken over, and when all was set and done this is where you wound up. You could almost laugh, thinking of all that money and college education-- gone. And all that was left was you and a pair of handcuffs chafing your wrist and a guard leading you into your new home. 

You knew little about Litchfield. But, you figured, it couldn’t be that hard to blend it. Get surrounded by a sea of plain uniforms, eat meals, stare at the ceiling every night attempting to fall asleep. But nothing could really prepare you for this moment.

As a guard, McCullough or something, led you and a few other new inmates into D-Block, you kept your eyes down amidst all the whooping and hollering.

“Ooh, some new cookies to play with! This batch don’t look half bad,” a voice jeered at them. You couldn’t resist looking just for a second, seeing a girl with a bad dye job and crossed arms laughing. Your stomach curled as your eyes slid over her face, but then you noticed a movement behind her.

It was just a small twitch, a cocking of the head. And yet for a second when you saw her you forgot how to breath. The woman was staring right at you, eyes narrowed as a predator watches its prey. Subconsciously, your brain told you to look away but your body refused to obey. Instead you kept her gaze, taking in oversized glasses and the end of a lollipop that stuck out of her mouth. But, then she blinked, and you felt your face flush and the world came rushing back. You let your long blond hair hide your face from view as you followed the CO to your new bunk. And yet the heat of eyes burned your back the whole way there. 

“Munoz, meet your new roommate,” you heard as you stumbled into the cell. A girl with long, fizzy cornrows turned from where she was bent over the shelf and nodded at you. 

“Most people call me Creech. The top bunk is yours.”

And that was it. You flopped down and let your eyes close, processing. You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until a hand shook you awake. Your cellmate looked up at you, frowning. “Come on newbie, it’s dinner time.” You longed to close your eyes again, but reluctantly followed her outside and into the mass of inmates. 

The food was some meat stew and vegetables that looked like they came from an expired can, but you weren’t hungry anyways. Instead, you turned and asked, “So Munoz-- Creech, sorry. Who was that girl before, and what did she mean by cookies?”

Munoz glanced around before replying. “Oh, that was Badison. She talks a lot, but she also packs a pretty good punch, so stay on her good side. Or just stay away. And cookies is just our word for people like you, the new inmates.” 

A soft “okay” was all you can manage, feeling overwhelmed. “And who’s that?” you ask as you raise your hand to point. Munoz followed your gaze and slapped down your arm immediately.

“Don’t point,” she hissed. Looking furious and slightly terrified, she answered. “That’s Carol Denning. Ever heard of the Little Debbie murderers? Well, that’s her and her sister over in D-block. But Carol runs this place, so if you know what’s good for you just keep your hands and eyes to yourself around her.”

You inhale. Of course. Of course the woman who you’d practically had a staring contest with was the boss of this place. And smoking hot. This day was going great. 

But despite those words, an hour later in your bunk you drift off with the image of blue eyes watching you seared into your mind.

Carol.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days passed by with little incident. You hung out with Munoz and met a few other inmates around C-block. It’s hard to remember their names amidst so much change. Everything seems to almost push you over the edge. 

Badison sneers every time you walk by, your toothpaste goes missing, and you come back after a shower to find your cell tossed and shit scattered all over the ground.

You try very hard not to cry, but finally after night five when Munoz’s shallow breaths become soft snores you feel your face crumble and eyes start to burn. Before you know it, the tears are flowing down your cheeks, uninhibited. You let them. It feels good, the emotions and stress finally pouring out, until you feel an ache start to build in your temples. The familiar signs of a tear-induced headache approach, so you press your palms to your face and try to slow your rapid breathing. It takes a few minutes, but in the end you feel drained yet almost relaxed.

The next morning is a little better. You are able to roll out of bed as the rest of the block stirs, and actually look in the mirror for the first time that week. You look like shit.

There were dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks look hollow, and your hair was thin and uneven at the ends. It almost made you chuckle, imagining yourself wearing fancy clothes and a full face of makeup just months ago, well on your way to do something with your life. Well, that option was gone.

There was nothing you could do about the bags or your jutting cheekbones, but maybe the hair could be fixed. You mused it over for a second before deciding why not. There wasn’t any point in saving all your money, since you weren’t going to be able to buy anything on the outside for a long time.

“So, you do I go to around here for a haircut?” you asked Munoz when she stirred from her own bunk.

She sized you up. “That would be the twins, blondie, but you know that nothing is free around here.”

You nodded. “I have the money. What would they want?”

“Hmm. I’ve heard they’re running low on shampoo. Stuff’s gone up in price in commissary.”

You shake your head, mumbling a quiet thanks before slipping out to make a purchase. It takes you the better part of an hour to get to commissary and wait for one of the guards to get bored of watching you, but finally you walk away victorious and with a slightly depleted bank account.

The next step was a little trickier. You weren’t exactly sure how to set up an appointment and what the C-block rules were about this, so you hesitated before making your way over to the salon. Luckily the twins were seated, just sorting through some of their nail polish when you approached.

Shyly, you muttered “Hi,” causing them both to look up.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you were in need of some more shampoo?” You held up the two bottles in your fists.

One of the women stepped forwards, taking the bottles and examining them. She gave a short nod. “Yes, someone told you well. Who was it?”

“Munoz.”

“Ah, yes. Those cornrows have always cost her a little extra. So, what do you need, cookie?”

You consciously stop yourself from recoiling from the nickname. “Just a simply cut,” you said, motioning to your split ends.

The twins exchanged a glance, then guided you into a chair. They weren’t rough, but they weren’t gentle either. Soon enough your hair was damp, and long fingers were running through it, pulling against your scalp. It felt so good, you almost moaned. People playing with you hair had always been one of your weaknesses.

Suddenly, it struck you that this might be the only kind of touch you recieve for years and years. In here you had nobody to touch, and nobody to touch you. The thought made your eyes water for a second before you reigned in your emotions.

“So, what are we looking for here?” one of the twins asked. 

You examined yourself in the mirror, uncertain. Maybe it was time for a change from your usual long-and-straight look.

“How about I start cutting and you tell me when to stop.” It was phrased as a statement, but you still murmured your assent.

But only an inch and a half had fallen to the floor when you hear footsteps in the hall. The twins heard them too, stilling their moments. The sound was not quite loud enough to be a CO, but you felt unsettled for a few seconds before a face appeared in the doorway.

“Ladies,” rang Carol’s voice, calm and composed but still with an underlying warning in it.

“I require your services,” she said to the twins, and they immediately scurried away from you to clean up. You sat up from your prone position as well, shaking any loose hairs off of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take your time. I just wanted a quick cut,” you muttered, glancing in her eyes then down quickly. You had learned your lesson from the first day. She didn’t answer, walking past you to the other clean and ready chair in the salon. But then she paused, right by your ear, and inclined her head slightly.

“Don’t. I like it long.”

Your cheeks flared and she turned away, and you forced your feet to carry you forward and out of the room. It was only five words, and yet the way she said them sent a tingle through your body. All low and gravely. Your face didn’t stop burning until you reached your cell again and flopped onto your bunk, glad the small room was empty.

And, for a second, you let yourself wonder what else Carol likes.


	3. Chapter 3

She doesn’t say anything to you for the next week. But still, you feel a little more bold, a little less fearful. And you find yourself watching her. Not blatantly, you weren’t stupid. But slyly, behind the book you we’re trying to read, or out of the corner of your eye when you casually scanned the block. 

It still isn’t wise, but too hard for you to resist. You were drawn to her in a way you couldn’t explain. So you let these little moments drag on.

You watch as she plays bridge, eyes narrowed as she concentrated on her cards, face a carefully placed mask. You watch as she sneers and smirks and reprimands her crew. You watch as she orders a hit, and someone from D-block leaves in a body bag the next day. Her eyes never meet yours, though at moments when you look away you could almost feel the burning of her gaze. It is heavy and calculating and powerful.

It makes you squirm a little in your seat.

But, beside Carol, there is little that occupies your mind. You are bored, plain and simple. So, after trying the read the same page in the book you were perusing for the fourth time, you huff and stand up from the table. A shower, if not mentally stimulating, would at least feel good and leave you relatively cleaner.

You grabbed your towel and a few supplies before heading to the bathrooms. Thankfully, when you stepped inside, all of the stalls were empty. It wasn’t that you had a problem with nudity, but you still were completely comfortable with stripping in front of complete strangers.

You got out of your clothes quickly, leaving them on the bench. Then, you stepped into the stall and turned on the water. Immediately the spray came down, icy and strong. You shivered but didn’t move out of the way. It didn’t quite feel good, but it made you feel something other than empty, and that was enough for now. After about a minute the chill faded as the water became lukewarm. Then, you wrapped your arms around your body and reached for your bar of soap. The is, until you saw her.

She stood, blocking the entrance to the bathroom. Not that anyone was going to come. Her eyes were fixed on yours, not wandering up or down your exposed body. You weren’t sure whether you were grateful for that. But there was an intensity in her gaze that you could not place. Unable to make your muscles move you flushed, knowing that your cheeks were burning red.

She took a small step forward, and something shifted. As suddenly as she appeared, Carol was gone. You exhaled slowly.

The water didn’t feel so relaxing anymore and you felt the urge to get out. Hurriedly you dried yourself and dressed, toweling your hair to try and soak up the moisture. You still felt exposed in your cell, but it was better than being naked in the bathroom.

You spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between reading and replaying what had just happened over and over again. But you still couldn’t make sense of it. That is, until a low voice rumbled from the doorway.

“Out.”

It was directed at Munoz, who scurried off her bunk and out of the room with a backwards glance to you. You stood, trembling slightly. For a second you thought Carol was just going to look at you again, but in your next breath she was on top of you. Her hands found your throat, closing around your airway as her body pressed you against the wall. You struggled, panicked, but she was taller than you and stronger than she looked. Despite your movements she leaned even closer, hissing in your ear.

“What do you keep looking at, cookie? Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to stare?”

You wheeze but manage to get out, “Same goes for you, Carol.”

Her grip tightens, nails digging into your neck. “You have no right. No power. Nothing,” she emphasized.

And yet, in a way you did.

“I saw you before- in the showers,” you forced out. “I saw you.”

Her eyes narrowed but her chokehold loosened until she was almost cradling your neck.Then, she drew away. Her voice was deep when she stated “Stop staring at me.” And with her usual flare, she stalked out of your cell. 

You reached up to rub your neck, feeling the little welts that her nails had left. Tomorrow, you might have some finger sized bruises. Honestly, though, you didn’t mind. Some part of you knew this was wrong. You shouldn’t be provoking Carol Denning, a convicted murder, a boss, someone who could have you taken out with the nod of a head. But, for some reason, you wanted to get under her skin.

—

The next day you decided to try something different. Instead of sitting alone at a table and killing time for most of the day, you decided to hang out with Munoz and her friends. They were playing UNO, which you happily joined in on. It reminded you of summer camp and you pre-teen years and happy days spent smelling like chlorine and getting a sunburn.

As the game progressed, you realized how young some of the other inmates were. A few were decades older, but many were in their mid-twenties like you and a couple might still be in their late teens. One girl in particular, with long black hair, keeps trying to catch your eye. You smile at her. It’s nice to look at someone and not feel like you might be risking your life at the same time.

When it comes down to it, both you and her have two cards in hang until-- “UNO!” you shout, louder than you meant to. You hope she’s not a sore loser, but she only giggles, leaning towards you to touch your shoulder.

“Well, we don’t have any real prizes for winning, but maybe you could make a wish.” she suggested. “What do you want most right now?”

It comes out a bit sultry, and then you understand what she expects you to say. But, no. You glance away, and are startled to notice Carol glaring at you. Fury emanates from her in the way that she clenches her hand of cards, bridge game forgotten. If you were closer you knew her hands would be wrapped around your neck. Fuck.

Whatever happened had just made Carol very angry, even angrier than before. 

Amidst this realization the girl tapped you on the shoulder, still waiting for an answer. Carol’s jaw clenched. You looked away and swallowed to compose yourself.

“What I want most right now… I think some Reese’s peanut butter cups.”


	4. Chapter 4

You decide that staying away after these last few encounters might be the best way to go. You didn’t want to end up with a shiv between your ribs.

So, you stay in your cell more, reading and doing burpees and pushups. You missed really being able to work out, though it didn’t even compare to the longing you felt to really go outside. The best way to get rid of any negativity was being in the sun, of which there was very little here.

So, when yard time comes around, you slide in with the group of girls who are going. It isn’t quite outside, but almost. Going to the yard puts you in a good mood, enough to ignore Badison as she shoulders past you. 

In the yard, you hover near the edges. Sometimes, joining in on a basketball game, but it soon becomes evident that you suck so you move away. Some people huddle in groups, and she girl with long dark hair keeps glancing over at you. But you avoid her, not wanting a repeat of what went down before with Carol. 

Carol. Once you thought of her you couldn’t help but look.

You are slightly surprised when you see her without most of her crew. She stands, deep in conversation with Kerson and Webb, but besides them she is alone. Hmm. 

You turn your head, wary of her noticing you, and scan the rest of the yard like you usually do. The D-block inmates stuck to their side and the C-block to theirs, with a few newbies mingling with people they knew before Litchfield. Most seemed absorbed in some game or argument, or game that was about to turn into an argument. But, something seemed off. 

You catch a glint of white in the crowd and blink to be sure. Someone else was staring at Carol, a lanky Blonde in tan uniforms. 

She was twenty feet from Carol’s right, and as you watch she begins to inch closer. You tense, and then you see it. The white flash wasn’t the sun. It was the end of the toothbrush she clenched in a fist, narrowing to a sharp point. 

Before you realize what you are doing you’re sprinting across the yard. The girl sees you and starts to run too, at Carol. But the world narrows and you know that you have to be faster. You jump when she is five feet away, knocking both of you to the ground and landing roughly. The girl twists, trying to regain hold of her shiv, but it’s too late. The commotion had drawn all the attention of the yard, and Kerson already picked up the toothbrush and held it up to Carol. 

A moment later Hellmann appears and snatched it away as you tried to figure out the expression on Carol’s face. But your mind felt a little fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate. 

A pair of hands hauled you off the D-block inmate and half carried half pushed you out of the yard. You knew you were being led to a Medical, and let out a sigh of relief. You really didn’t want to go to Ad-Seg for trying to stop a murder. 

“What happened here?” The nurse asked the CO when he basically dropped you on one of the beds. 

“Someone was trying to shank Denning. This one took a dive on top of her.”

“Ah.”

You recognize the instruments he uses to examine you, checking your eyes and hearing. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, lingered your childhood fantasy of becoming a doctor. But you were snapped out of your reverie when he proclaimed, “So, you have a bruised wrist and possibly a minor concussion, inmate. I’m going to keep you here tonight, and see how you are tomorrow.”

You try to nod, thankful it’s not worse. But as you drift off you smile a bit. For some reason, Carol Denning was worth it. 

—

The next day you don’t feel much better. But, as you follow the light with your eyes like the nurse tells you to, he nods.

“Yep, you’re good to go. Just keep weight off that wrist and don’t go hitting your head against any solid objects any time soon.”

You blink, surprised, but Hellman is already coming over to lead you back to C-block. For some reason you feel nervous, but he doesn’t wait for you to compose yourself. “Hurry up, inmate,” he orders. You scowl but obey. 

Faces turn as you are led through the door, and Badison stands. Everyone waits for her reaction and you hold eye contact. Then she whoops, and the room is filled with cheers. Munoz walks up and claps you on the back, and a few others nod as you pass by. It was almost like you had passed some initiation ritual, and were now truly part of the block.

You sit on Munoz’s bunk, not having the energy to climb up to your own. She leaves you be, and it is nice to listen to the muffled chatter from the common room. But your peace does not last long.

Carol stalks in, hair blowing behind her and looking slightly out of control. You notice her chest rising and falling rapidly. She steps towards you, but you don’t flinch. She practically growls and grabs you, hauling you to your feet. You don’t know if you expected it, but her hands find your throat again and press.

“What did I fucking tell you about staring?” she hisses.

You gasp out, “Not to.”

“And yet, you seem intent on disobeying me.”

It took a significant amount of effort to stop your eye-roll, but you were tired of this. You raised your hands to push her away, but as fast as a snake she released you and grabbed your wrists. You groan, knees buckling at the agony that shoots through your arm.

She let go and frowned down at your crumpled figure. You raised your head, eyes damp from the pain. “Look, I just didn’t want to see you getting stabbed. Is that so bad?”

When she doesn’t answer your chin drops, but then you are momentarily stunned as she lowers herself to her knees. Her cool fingers lift up your wrist and examined it, skin soft to the touch.

Eyes narrowed, she states, “I’m not giving you pain meds for free.”

“I didn’t ask for them.”

An unfathomable look crossed over her face. Finally she rolled her eyes and said “I have something for you. This ain't a thanks though, I don’t owe anybody shit and certainly not you.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting. Slowly she raised her shirt, exposing a flash of creamy skin. She smirked at your expression, but you could care less, pupils dilating. But then she stopped, and you heard a crinkle as she reached into her waistband. When she withdrew her hand there was an orange wrapper in it. 

You gasped. 

She held out the candy and you took it, scooting up onto the bunk. You unwrapped it reverently, and savored the smell before biting into the chocolate and peanut butter candy. 

You closed your eyes and let out a small moan. Carol shifted beside you, and when you looked at her she was fixated on your lips. 

“How did you know I like Reese’s?”

Her eyes flashed. “I hear things, doll.” You cock your brow at the new nickname, but don’t interrupt. Her mouth is dangerously close to your ear, and her nails dig into your thigh.

“I see you, flirting and laughing out there with those girls. Fucking stop it.”

“What, so now I can’t look at you or anyone else? And I’m injured. I really got the bad end of the stick here.”

The pressure on your leg increases, and you think she might hit you. But then, with a huff she pulled away and stood. You blink up at her taller figure and wait. Finally, with something in between a smirk and a smile she asks you. 

"Ever played bridge before?"


	5. Chapter 5

You don’t really care about card games, but from the first moment you walked into C-block it’s clear Carol does. Bridge is business to her, and she approaches it with the same focus and intensity. 

So, you try your best to learn, and are surprised that you aren’t half bad. It takes logic and cunning, and you have a little of both. It doesn’t hurt that you get to listen to Carol’s voice and look at her without risk of punishment this way. Well, at least not too much punishment. 

But other than being invited to Carol’s bridge game a couple times a week, much is the same. Prison is monotonous, but you fall into a routine. 

Wake up. Stretch. Eat. Read. Workout. Eat again. Sleep. Repeat. 

After you win the first game of bridge you play with Carol as your partner, you go back to your bunk to find a Reese’s on your pillow. It’s silly and inconsequential, but you smile for the rest of the day. She catches you and scowls, which makes you beam even harder. Hey, it’s the simple things in life that count now. 

Today you head to the library early in the morning, slipping out before even Carol leaves her stall. It’s become a bi-weekly routine; once you finish one book you go and pick up another. This time, you were leaving a worn copy of Jane Eyre, which you were surprised had made its way within these walls. Apparently some bitches other than you still love the good old Victorian romance novel.

It was empty at this time, most inmates just getting their breakfast. You sigh, moving slowly through the shelves. By the time you finished serving your time, you’ll have read all the books in her.

Fifteen years was a long stretch. But, you had killed somebody after all. Even if it was your bitch of a mother who spent years beating and abusing you, she was still dead. You felt a pang in your stomach each time you thought those words, and couldn’t quite place it. Some mixture of relief and regret and satisfaction.

You slid Jane Eyre back on to the fiction shelf and hummed, running your finger over the titles next to it.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a voice drawled. You jumped and spun around.

Four girls had crept up on you from both sides. You took in their tan uniforms, not recognizing faces but sensing imminent danger. Then one stepped forward that you knew, the one who called herself Daddy. Carol had mentioned her enough times in relation to Barb that you knew this was bad.

“Fuck this. Annalise is still in solitary, and you’re out here enjoying some rec time. Now, that just doesn't seem right, does it girls?”

You stumble back, but they converge on you at once. One shove and you fall heavily. Someone steps on your hair, and another sits on your stomach. You shut your eyes, waiting for the blows to fall.

Instead, you head a deep male voice exclaim “Shit!”

Hellman glares down at you, and the D-block inmates freeze. He hauls off the girl on top of you and takes in the mess but relative lack of blood or injury. “I don’t have the fucking time for all this extra paperwork. Back to your block, inmates!”

He orders them but holds on tightly to you. He drags you along with him, mutturing “she told me… but nothing happened…” You frown as he turns and takes you down a different hallway, away from your cell.

“Where are we going?”

Without a word he yanks open the nearest utility closet and shoves you in. “Wait in here, and don’t fuckin move.” The mops and brooms around you shake with force as he slammed the door.

You wait a minute, then slide to the ground when he doesn’t come back. Time stands still in the darkness of the small room until you hear two sets of approaching footsteps. The door opens enough for you to see Carol shoot Hellman a murderous look before stepping inside. She clicks the lock, then flicks on a dim light.

“I--” you start but she stops you with a raised hand.

“How- the- fuck- do you always manage to put yourself right in the way of danger?” Her rage makes her words come out clipped and stuttered. “Alone in the library. Fuckin idiot.”

You wince. “Why--”

She cut you off. “Because you just had to jump in front of that shiv, didn’t you? Don’t you get it? You practically put a target on your back for Barb’s girls.” Carol shook her head tightly. “But they don’t get to hurt you, those bitches don’t have the damn right. You’re fuckin mine.”  
You blink, shocked. You never thought there would be a day where Carol Denning would call you hers, where you would get more than glares or the occasional choking when you pissed her off. But before you could respond Carol screamed and punched the wall once, then twice. Her fist landed inches from your head.

“Carol!” you shout, stopping the momentum of her arm from making contact with concrete for the third time. She breathes heavily as her eyes land on yours. You see darkness in them, hate and fury and something beneath. You hold her knuckles as she pants, mouth open.

And then, suddenly, her knee is between your legs and her body is flush to yours. You let your eyes fall on her lips the second before she surges forward to press them to yours. The kiss is all pressure and teeth and power-hungry. It is just how you imagined she would be. She draws back after a moment, still panting but seeming almost confused. That expression disappears though as she puts space between your bodies. You swallow as she does an abrupt about-face and leaves you against the cold wall.

Hellman gives you a minute to compose yourself before he comes in and orders you to go. He speaks, but all you hear is a dull buzzing. Carol wanted to kill you. Carol kissed you. Carol was unhinged and would most likely destroy you.

Why did prison have to be this complicated?


End file.
